


Soda

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M, Vampires, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-18 13:13:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21711322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Chekov sees that Sulu’s thirsty.
Relationships: Pavel Chekov/Hikaru Sulu
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	Soda

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Pulling extra shifts is daunting and difficult but necessary—Pavel’s only an ensign, and he knows his position aboard the USS is a precarious one. He’s a good officer, a better navigator, but there are dozens of lieutenants that would die for a seat on the bridge. Pavel won’t give it up. He makes himself indispensable. He covers for anyone under the weather, he trains with Mr. Spock, he even picks up bits of Engineering. A part of him feels like he could fly the whole ship himself if he wanted to. But he wouldn’t. He much prefers doing that with Hikaru by his side. 

Hikaru’s already a lieutenant, headed straight for commander, so he gets to finish alpha shift and return to their shared quarters like a normal human being. Or a normal human being with an alien disease, anyway. He’s not _allowed_ to take more than one shift in a day—at least, not until Dr. McCoy figures out how to cure him. It’s too dangerous. They know it’s not contagious, and they know how to soothe it, but leaving him around others for too long might tempt him to soothe it on his own. They offered Pavel different quarters for that. 

Pavel didn’t take them. He walks through his own doors, beelines for his bed, and takes comfort in seeing Hikaru watering his plants. Hikaru turns around to offer a small smile in greeting, and Pavel falters. Hikaru’s eyes are bloodshot, his face strangely gaunt, his complexion deathly pale. He obviously needs feeding again. Pavel swallows and asks, “Hungry?”

“You have no idea,” Hikaru chuckles, jovial even at the worst of times. He turns back to his Rigelian begonias, emptying out the water can. Then he sets it down beside the pot and just sort of _stands_ there, not looking at Pavel.

Pavel knows he’s deliberately not turning around, because if he sees a living, breathing person with compatible red blood, it’ll only tempt him. There’s something strangely _thrilling_ about tempting Hikaru.

Drawn both by that and empathy, Pavel mutters, “So come and do it.”

Hikaru’s back tenses. Pavel can see the stress rippling through it. He’s still in his yellow uniform. He hardly sleeps anymore. He mumbles, “Pavel...”

Pavel marches right over, pulling down his sleeve in the process. Then he’s offering his wrist to Hikaru, no strings attached. Hikaru’s eyes glance back to him. Hikaru breathes, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Pavel says, even though a part of him is terrified. He can’t help it. He’s always _scared_ when he thinks of using his own body to feed a monster, but then he reminds himself this is _Hikaru Sulu_ —a man he’d give his life for. Poor Hikaru’s just sick. It could happen to anyone, _did_ happen to everyone on the away team. Hikaru’s just the one Pavel sees the most. Pavel should’ve been down there. He’s a brave starship officer that has no business cowering away from alien effects. He stays strong, even lifting his hand, daring Hikaru to do it.

A visible shudder runs through Hikaru’s body. He gently cups Pavel’s wrist and lifts it the rest of the way.

He spreads his tongue flat over it, and the tingling sensation of his saliva dulls down Pavel’s nerve ends. He knows the science behind it. He listened to both Dr. McCoy and Mr. Spock’s reports. Intellectually, he knows it won’t really _hurt_. It never does. 

If anything, when Hikaru’s fangs sink down into him, it feels _good_. He has to bite the inside of his lip to stifle a moan, because it’s such a rush, and he loves watching the rapture on Hikaru’s face as his blood trickles away.

Somehow, he always gets caught up in the superstition of it and forgets how much he likes it. Better sill, he knows Hikaru _loves_ it. And he likes being the one to satisfy Hikaru.

Hikaru pulls out a few seconds later. He never takes long, never takes much. He apologetically licks over the holes he left, sealing them up again. And he tells Pavel, “Thank you.”

Pavel smiles and promises, “Anytime.”


End file.
